An Accomplished Rider
by Elf Eye
Summary: An accident makes Arwen fearful of horses, and Anomen tries to mend matters. An elfling tale in The Nameless One series.


**Folks, I wrote this one at the request of my daughter. The stuffed toy was her idea. Her room is overflowing with stuffed animals. Several years ago, when I suggested that she keep only her favorite ones, she looked at me and said solemnly, "But I have had a relationship with every one." Of course, this is the kid who will assure me that some minor injury hurts her "excruciatingly."**

**Vocabulary: Roch—Horse**

**Beta Reader: _Dragonfly_**

**An Accomplished Rider**

"Someday," observed Glorfindel, "Arwen is going to be an accomplished rider."

Elrond laughed in amusement.

"Glorfindel, how can you say that? She has hardly begun to walk! It is much too soon to tell how well she will ride."

"No, it is not, Elrond. Half of riding lies in one's attitude. Arwen has absolutely no fear of horses. Look how comfortably she sits encircled in Elrohir's arm as that horse trots about the field."

Elrond looked anew upon Arwen. 'Yes', he thought, 'she is certainly at ease around and upon horses. Even though she cannot yet sit alone upon so much as a pony, she gives every sign of being eager to do so, and at a remarkably young age'.

Exactly how eager Arwen was became apparent once Anomen had joined the Rivendell household. Anomen was fascinated by horses, but in Greenwood he had not had many opportunities to ride them. Perceiving his interest and his talent, Elrond made sure that the elfling was put under the supervision of the Riding Master for part of each day.

Arwen proved to be as fascinated by Anomen as Anomen was fascinated by horses, and whenever he went to the stables, she followed. The Greenwood Elf made rapid progress and soon graduated from the gentlest pony to a more challenging steed. Anomen was of course much older than Arwen, but it mattered not to the little elleth. Seeing him trotting and then cantering about on a horse, Arwen clamored to be allowed to do the same. Day after day, the Riding Master gently but firmly refused.

"Lord Elrond," said the Riding Master one day, "perhaps Arwen should be allowed more time upon her pony. Perhaps then she will cease begging to be allowed to ride upon horses that are much too large and powerful for her."

"Very well," said Elrond. "I will see that a groom is assigned to accompany her for several hours each week."

Elrond kept his word, but the extra time Arwen spent riding upon her pony each week only served to whet her desire to attempt the larger horses. The Riding Master got into the habit of watching her carefully whenever she was about the stable, for he was convinced that the fearless elleth would someday attempt to mount one of the forbidden horses. Unfortunately, his precautions proved to be both prescient and fruitless.

One day at the evening meal, Elrond looked about and saw that Arwen was not in her place. He was about to send one of her brothers to look for her, when the Riding Master appeared in the doorway looking distressed.

"Your pardon, Lord Elrond, but one of the stallions has gone missing."

"Indeed?" said Elrond. "Which one?"

The Riding Master looked even more distressed.

"The Lord Glorfindel's great stallion," he replied.

Glorfindel looked a little fierce at that news and opened his mouth to speak, but Elrond raised his hand and forestalled him.

"I am sure," he said calmly, "that Lord Glorfindel's stallion will come to no harm."

The Riding Master looked no less distressed. He gazed anxiously about the room.

"I do not see the Lady Arwen," he said, his voice tremulous.

The truth began to dawn upon Elrond. Now he was not so composed. With an effort he kept his voice from trembling.

"Was Arwen at the stable just now?"

"She was at the stable before the stallion disappeared."

"And after?"

"I could not find her."

Elrond, Glorfindel, and every scout within the Dining Hall arose as one and converged upon the exit. Erestor held back Anomen and the twins or they would have followed after.

"It is enough," he said gravely, "that one elfling has gone missing. Do not add to your father's woe by running off into the forest."

"But we want to do something!" cried Elrohir.

"You will do something of great value if you do not distract the searchers. Would you wish a scout to be beating the bush for you when he could be employed in the search for Arwen?"

The elflings had to concede that they would not, and they sadly retired to their chamber to await the outcome of the search.

Late that night, the elflings heard the sound of hoof beats. Anxiously, they crowded the window casement, jostling each other in their eagerness to peer out. A column of horses was riding up to the Hall. At its head rode Elrond, and in his arms he cradled Arwen. Her eyes were closed.

"She must be sleeping very soundly," said Elladan hopefully. The three quietly slipped out of their room and made for Arwen's chamber, which was next to their father's. He spared them a slight smile as he carried Arwen into her room.

"Go to sleep," he whispered.

"How is Arwen?" Elrohir whispered back.

"I shall be able to tell you more in the morning," Elrond replied. "Stay well."

The three elflings reluctantly returned to their chamber, quite certain that they would be unable to sleep a wink. They were, however, still elflings, and in spite of their fears, sleep at last took them.

The next morning, when they awoke their room was filled with sunlight.

"It is late," said Anomen. "I wonder why we have been allowed to sleep in."

Apprehensively, the elflings leaped from their beds, yanked on their clothes, and ran from the room. The door to Arwen's chamber stood open, and they heard voices. They crept near and peeked in. Arwen was awake but looked very pale. A bandage was wrapped around her head, and her arm bore a splint. Elrond was talking earnestly with Erestor, but when he saw the elflings, he smiled and gestured for them to enter.

"So, you have finally awoken. I am glad you have slept so long, for you had little rest last night."

"Is Arwen well, Ada?" Elrohir asked anxiously.

"Well enough," replied Elrond. "And she will improve," he continued, laying a gentle hand upon her uninjured arm. "She has had a concussion, and her arm is broken, but she has suffered no injuries that will not heal."

Despite his optimism, however, Elrond was very nearly wrong. It is true that Arwen's physical injuries, well-tended as they were, healed quickly. She was up and about within a few days. Yet she now wanted nothing to do with horses. When Anomen, eager to do her a kindness, invited her to sit before him on his horse, she shrieked and ran away. Neither Elrohir nor Elladan, nor even Elrond, could persuade her to venture near the stable. Elrond grew troubled.

"Do you suppose," he said to Glorfindel, "that she will ever lose this fear of horses?"

"She developed a fear of horses; she can develop a trust of horses," replied Glorfindel. "Remember that there are years—centuries!—ahead during which she can recover from the ill-effects of her fall from that stallion. You of all folk know that it is necessary to be patient in a case such as this!"

Elrond conceded that Glorfindel was right, and he resolved to be patient. Yet the weeks turned into months, and still Arwen avoided the stable. There were those other than Elrond who were distressed by this fact. Of the household, Anomen was particularly troubled, for, although young, he was old enough to understand that it was Arwen's desire to emulate him that had led her to attempt a steed that was so large and strong. He therefore felt himself responsible for the incident and its outcome. He brooded over this idea and became convinced that he ought to do something to help Arwen recover her love of riding. But what could an elfling do?

One night Anomen lay in bed feeling particularly helpless and forlorn. He moved restlessly about and began to think longingly of Roch, the stuffed horse that Edwen Nana had made for him when he had been very young. He wished he could hug that toy as he often had when he felt abandoned by his father. Suddenly he knew what he would do for Arwen.

'I will make her a Roch', he declared to himself. He grew very excited at the thought of Arwen enjoying a toy horse as he once had. 'Perhaps' he thought hopefully, 'if she plays with Roch, she will care less that a horse frightened her'.

The next morning he sat impatiently through breakfast and then begged leave of Erestor to come late to lessons at the library. As Anomen was ahead of both Elrohir and Elladan in his studies, Erestor granted his request. Anomen hastened to the chamber that was the domain of the Head Seamstress. He stood timidly at the door. The Head Seamstress sat in great estate, surrounded by her court of maidens, all of whom were bent over their tasks, sewing diligently. At length she noticed Anomen where he stood, and she gestured for him to come forward.

"Well, Master Anomen," she smiled, "have you a rent in your tunic needs mending?"

"No, Mistress," he said shyly. "I wonder if I might have a bit of cloth—only a little!—and a needle and some thread."

She smiled encouragingly at him.

"Cloth? What color?"

"Brown, if you please. And, if it would be possible, could it be a sort of velvet, so that it will feel like the coat of a horse?"

"I have a length of brown velvet left over from a tunic I stitched for Lord Erestor. You may have it. But tell me, is it a horse you mean to sew?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Have you ever sewn anything like a horse before?"

"No, Mistress."

"I will sew it for you, if you like."

"No, thank you, Mistress. 'Tis a gift for Arwen. I would like to make it myself."

"I understand. But will you let me cut out the necessary pieces and show you how to go about the task?"

Anomen considered. He wanted to do something for Arwen, but he also wanted the horse to be a pretty one.

"Yes," he said. "I should like that very much."

The Seamstress took Anomen into a storeroom and showed him a basket of remnants. The brown velvet was indeed perfect, and Anomen also picked out some black cloth for the hooves. The Seamstress suggested to him that he use brown yarn for the mane and the tail, and Anomen eagerly agreed. Then she showed him a box of buttons, and he found two shiny black ones that would be perfect for eyes. She promised to cut out the pattern straightaway, and Anomen assured her that he would return as soon as possible. The elfling hastened to the library and threw himself so wholeheartedly into his lessons that he was able to complete the ones not only for that day but the next. Then he asked Erestor if he might be excused from lessons altogether on the morrow, and the tutor, after carefully looking over the lad's work, pronounced it superior and said he would indulge him as a reward for his cleverness and hard work.

Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Anomen returned to the Seamstress, who showed him that the horse's seams needed to be stitched inside-out. "Then, when you have nearly finished with the seams," she explained, "you will turn the horse right-side-out. The rough edges will be hidden, and your horse will look quite elegant. Have a care to leave enough of one seam unstitched so that you can pull the horse right-side-out through the gap. Also, it is through the unstitched portion that you will introduce the stuffing."

Anomen settled himself in a corner of the room and set to sewing with a diligence that matched that of any of the maidens. From time to time he would carry his work to the Seamstress for her approval. His stitches were small and neat, and she responded with encouragement. Soon he was ready to pull the horse right-side-out, and then he carefully stuffed it with cotton, being sure that the tufts were distributed evenly so that the horse would not be lumpy. By then his fingers were quite sore, and he was glad to let the Seamstress finish off the seam cleverly so that you could not tell that the gap had ever existed. He also allowed her to sew the mane, but the tail and the eyes he managed himself. As for the black cloth for the hooves, he decided it was not necessary after all. The Seamstress smiled but said nothing.

The horse finished, Anomen held it up and looked at it carefully from every angle. At last, satisfied, he nodded.

"It is very like my own Roch," he said happily and then blushed when he realized he had revealed something about his time in Greenwood.

"It is a rare elfling," said the Seamstress, "who never had a beloved creature with which to share the long nights. I believe that if you were to peek into the very back of the wardrobe in your chamber, you might find a Rabbit and a Bear. The one was Elladan's; the other Elrohir's. I know that Arwen had an Oliphant upon a time, but it was lost around the time of her mother's departure. I asked whether she would like me to sew her a new one, but her mother had made it for her, and she did not want a replacement."

"Then perhaps she will not want this horse," said Anomen, alarmed.

"But a horse is not an Oliphant," the Seamstress pointed out. "I think she will want this horse, coming as it does from you."

Encouraged, Anomen went to the garden. He threw himself down upon the grass and began to play with the horse, talking with it and making it gallop about.

"Noro lim!" he cried. "Carry me to safety, Roch! There are Orcs about!"

After a little while, he heard a rustling in the bushes, and, knowing that he was being watched, he redoubled his efforts. Roch reared and neighed, leaped over flower beds, raced about bushes, and, in short, showed himself to be a steed of great mettle. At last Anomen stretched and rubbed his belly.

"I am hungry," he told Roch, "and I am sure you are as well. The grass hereabouts is very good. Whilst you graze upon it, I am going to see if I can creep into the Kitchen and save Cook the trouble of carrying all the pastries to the Dining Hall."

Anomen built a little corral out of twigs, and then he arose and made for the kitchen. He really was hungry, and he did slip in and out of the Kitchen, bearing away with him a pastry in each hand.

When he returned to the Garden, he was delighted to hear Arwen prattling away.

"You needn't gallop," she was saying. "There are no Orcs about now. A trot will suffice. That's right! What a clever horse you are! Perhaps you might canter a bit now. How smoothly you go through your paces!"

Anomen stepped out from behind a bush.

"Here now," he called, pretending to be aggrieved. "That's _my_ horse!"

"You left this horse without any water," retorted Arwen, "and with no shade, neither. You don't deserve this horse!"

Anomen saw that Arwen had constructed a sort of leaf hut in the corral and placed a cup of water within. He also saw that Roch's nose was wet. Clearly, the horse had had a 'drink'."

"I am sorry," he said, making a great show of being contrite. "Will he be alright, do you think?"

"Now that he's being looked after properly," Arwen said haughtily, "I am sure he will recover."

With that she swept from the garden, clutching Roch to her chest with both hands. Left in her wake, Anomen grinned happily.

That evening at supper, Arwen insisted that Roch sit beside her plate, and she 'fed' it her green beans.

"That horse will get the colic," Glorfindel observed.

"Do you really think so?" Arwen asked anxiously.

"I do," Glorfindel said gravely.

"What had I better do?"

"You come out to the stable tomorrow, and I shall let you have some oats for your horse."

"Oh, thank you. I shall be there as early as I may."

The next morning Arwen kept her word. Immediately after breakfast, she and Roch presented themselves at the stable. Glorfindel did not arrive at once, however, so Arwen and Roch settled themselves upon a barrel to await him. From where they sat, they could see Arwen's pony, which stretched his neck out longingly toward his mistress.

"He has missed you," said a groom.

"Has he? I _am_ sorry," said Arwen, feeling guilty at having neglected one horse for another.

"I think," continued the groom, "that you could make it up to him if you fed him a carrot."

"Do you really think so?" Arwen said excitedly.

"I do," said the groom, handing her a carrot.

Clutching Roch in one hand and the carrot in another, Arwen approached the pony, who nickered and snorted his warm breath into her face. She giggled and held up the carrot. Nipping delicately, the pony bit by bit crunched his way through it.

"His mane looks rather tangled," Arwen said when the pony had finished.

"True," conceded the groom. "As he has not been ridden in several weeks, perhaps he hasn't been tidied up as he ought. His tail is a little bedraggled, too, isn't it? Pity. I must muck out all the stalls, or I should see to it."

"I could do it," Arwen said eagerly. "I brush my own hair now. It is not so different from a pony's mane."

The groom looked her over carefully.

"Perhaps you could," he said thoughtfully. "I will give you a try. I must warn you, however, that if you do not suit, I shall send you packing."

Arwen assured him that she would give him no cause for complaint, and the groom furnished her with brushes and a box to stand on.

"May I have a second box?" she asked.

"Is that first box not high enough? Do you need to stack box upon box?"

"No," Arwen assured him, "but I need a box for Roch."

"Ah," said the groom solemnly. He carried over another box and placed it next to the first. Arwen carefully placed Roch upon it. The night before, she had neatly braided Roch's tail and mane, and she meant to ornament her pony in the same fashion.

By the time Glorfindel arrived, the pony looked quite elegant.

"What a handsome pony," said the balrog-slayer. "Would you like some oats for that pony as well as for Roch?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Arwen. Glorfindel helped her scoop up a portion of grain. She lugged the bucket to the stall and poured the oats into the manger. She kept back a handful that she 'fed' grain by grain to Roch while she delightedly watched the pony munch his share. Glorfindel stood by her all the while.

"Pity," he said after awhile. "Such a handsome pony should be seen by all."

Arwen looked very thoughtful and was quiet for a long time.

"Do you suppose," she said at last, "that you could lead the pony through the garden?"

"I could," said Glorfindel, "but then his paces would not be shown to their best advantage. He ought to be ridden."

"Oh," said Arwen, disappointed. She considered a little longer.

"You are certain he ought to be ridden?"

"I am," said Glorfindel. "I would offer to ride him myself, but, as you see, I am much too large. Indeed, I believe that you are of the best size for the task."

"I suppose," Arwen said hesitantly, "that I could sit that pony if you would hold the lead. He could never run off then, could he?"

"I think," said Glorfindel, keeping a perfectly straight face, "that if I can hold my stallion in check, I should be able to maintain a good grip on your pony's lead. Do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes!" said Arwen hastily. "I would not want to suggest that you could not!"

"I am glad to know it," said Glorfindel gravely. "So we are agreed?"

"Ye-es," said Arwen slowly. "I suppose we are."

"Excellent. Do you wish to carry Roch with you on the pony, or would you like me to hold him?"

"I think I should like to hold on with both hands," said Arwen, "but can you manage both Roch and the pony?"

"I shall make shift," Glorfindel solemnly assured her. "I shall hold the lead with one hand and Roch with the other."

With Arwen's 'assistance', Glorfindel saddled the pony, and then he lifted her upon the small steed. Tightly gripping the mane with both hands, Arwen looked a little fearful at the outset, but she soon found her body slipping back comfortably into the familiar rhythm of the pony's walk.

"Glorfindel," she said after a bit, "I am afraid no one will be about by the time we reach the Hall, and then no one shall see my pony."

"Perhaps I ought to walk a little faster," answered Glorfindel.

"If you wouldn't mind?"

"I would not. The pony would be pleased, too, for you see what delight he takes in stretching his legs after so many days of little or no exercise."

Glorfindel was soon jogging along, leading the pony at a trot. He did not look back, but he could hear Arwen's delighted giggles.

'That one', he thought with renewed satisfaction, 'will someday be an accomplished rider'.

Anomen had followed Arwen to the stable, taking care to remain well hidden, and when he overheard Arwen agree to sit the pony, he had hastened back to the Hall bearing the news. It thus came about that many of the household 'happened' to be lingering in the vicinity of the entrance to the Hall.

"What a handsome pony," called the Head Seamstress, who, "on account of the loveliness of the day," had brought her maidens outside to sew in the sun.

The Head Cook had come outside to look over some patches of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme that grew near the door. "I think I shall bake a cake in the shape of that pony," he said approvingly, "although it will only capture the figure and not the grace of the creature."

The Head Smith had come out to examine a door hinge that supposedly needed mending.

"The fittings on that headstall are not ornate enough for such a fine steed," he opined. "I shall make him some new ones."

"That's all very well for the pony," observed the Head Cobbler, who had come outside to see how some leather looked in natural light, "but let us not forget the rider. I shall measure her for new riding boots."

"As to that," added the Seamstress, "for the young elleth I shall cut the pattern for a new cloak and sew it myself, with galloping ponies embroidered all about the hem."

Arwen overheard every compliment, and she was beaming. Her Ada was there as well, but he had no need to say anything. He smiled proudly upon her, and she held her herself even straighter upon her pony.

By and by, Glorfindel said that he had matters to attend to and would lead Arwen's pony back to the stable. Arwen's face turned woeful at those words, and Elladan, Elrohir, and Anomen, who had been 'playing' together nearby, volunteered with one voice to take turns walking the pony about the garden. And so they did, until Arwen was well and truly tired. Then Elladan and Anomen led the pony back to the stable and fed and curried him whilst Elrohir carried a sleepy Arwen inside. She would not fall asleep, however, until Roch had been found. Glorfindel had put him down upon a garden wall—"from which he may observe you, Arwen," the balrog-slayer said—and the creature had been overlooked in the general move to quit the garden. Arwen had remembered, however, when she put her hand out to draw him to her as she snuggled into her blankets.

"My horse!" she cried. "My horse!"

Anomen had come to bid her goodnight, and he went out at once to search for the misplaced toy. He found it a bit damp with dew but otherwise unharmed.

Once Roch had been restored to Arwen, the little elleth promptly fell asleep. Perhaps she dreamed that night of galloping across endless fields. No one can say, but it is certain that from that day onward Arwen began to recover her delight in horses, and as she grew, she devoted every hour that she might to riding and caring for her steeds. When still a young maiden, she rode in and about Imladris until she knew the lands thereabouts as well as any scout. Some say that it was she and not Glorfindel who found the Ringbearer when he and his companions were being pursued by Ringwraiths as they fled toward sanctuary in Rivendell. Later, when she was espoused to King Elessar, she liked nothing better than to journey on horseback throughout the realm of Gondor. Often she was joined in that pastime by the Lady Eowyn, wife of Faramir, the Lord of Ithilien.

"So well do you ride," Eowyn would tease the elleth, "that, were it not for your ears, I would be certain that you were a shield-maiden of Rohan. Truly, Arwen, I did not know that Elves were consummate riders until I met Legolas, and I think you are a better rider than even he!"

"Oh, no!" protested Arwen, smiling, "not better than Legolas! He can manage both a stallion and a Dwarf, and at one and the same time."

Those words provoked laughter from all spectators, amongst them Gimli himself. He stood and made a great show of bowing gallantly.

"I am glad the Lady Arwen professes respect for a spirited Dwarf such as myself. I am sure I give Legolas much more trouble than any horse ever could."

"I will not gainsay you, Master Dwarf," called Legolas. "You are more of a challenge than a veritable team of horses."

"The first time ever I fell off a horse," continued Gimli, "I was quite sure that it would be my last. But Legolas would not give up on me."

Arwen shot Legolas a grateful look.

"Legolas," she said, "is not in the habit of giving up on anyone, as I have reason to know. You are not the only rider to have ever fallen from a horse, Gimli!"

"Do you hear that, Legolas," cried Gimli. "I am not the only rider to have ever fallen from a horse."

"True, Gimli," retorted the Elf, "but you must admit that you do so with inimitable style."

"No doubt," replied Gimli, not the least nonplussed. "No one matches a Dwarf for style—that's certain."

"Oh, yes," said Legolas dryly. "Quite certain." On some matters, he and Gimli never did see eye to eye, as it were. But on one subject they could agree. Glorfindel had been right: Arwen did become an 'accomplished' rider. In the end perhaps even her fall had proved to be a good thing. She knew the worst that could happen, and from that point on, she had nothing to fear and she never looked back. And so at last it came to be said that not even a Ringwraith's steed could ever have been a match for a horse ridden by Arwen Undómiel. Whether or not that race was ever run, I do not know, but of this I am certain: only a fool would have wagered on the Nazgûl.


End file.
